


Of Mice and Happy Endings

by misura



Category: Ladyhawke (1985)
Genre: Multi, Pre-Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'll cut you a deal," Navarre said, with a smile that, on any other man, would have sent Philippe straight out the nearest window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Mice and Happy Endings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1shinymess (magpie4shinies)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie4shinies/gifts).



"I'll cut you a deal," Navarre said, with a smile that, on any other man, would have sent Philippe straight out the nearest window.

(Their current conversation was, alas, taking place in a courtyard.)

"Oh no, sir, really, don't do that. You've already done so much for me." In all fairness, Navarre had also done a great deal _to_ him, such as getting him involved in this whole crazy adventure with bishops and curses and beautiful ladies (well, one of them, anyway). Granted, Navarre had done so mainly by saving his life, but Philippe still felt he was fully justified in being somewhat wary of Navarre doing him any other favors.

"If I catch you steal a loaf of bread," Navarre started and Philippe thought _uh-oh_ and said:

"I'm a thief, sir. I'm not proud of it, but it's the way the Good Lord has made me, and who am I to argue with His design?"

" _If_ I catch you steal a loaf of bread, I will give you _two_ loaves of bread."

Philippe considered, searching for the snake in the grass of that ... rather peculiar threat.

"If you steal a pair of trousers, I will give you two pairs of trousers. If you steal a shirt, two shirts. If you - "

"No more, sir. I believe - " _that you are a raving lunatic_ " - that I have grasped the essence of your offer."

"Good," Navarre said. He really looked quite handsome in his captain's uniform, Philippe thought; like a truly noble person, far too important to bother with an insignificant, humble person such as himself. Quite untouchable. Like a certain lady with eyes of the bluest blue.

"Sir, with all due respect, I decline. It just wouldn't be right."

"Oh, that wasn't the offer," Navarre said, smiling that smile again. "The offer is that I will either do these things, causing both of us a great deal of trouble, or ... "

"Or you will not do these things and simply let me be?" Philippe suggested hopefully.

Navarre frowned at him. "I owe you my life. Is it so hard for you to grasp that now that I have finally refound the life I thought to have lost forever, I would wish to share that life with you? That _we_ would wish to share our life with you?"

"It is, sir. I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but it truly is a very strange notion you have. Ask anyone. Any member of the guard will tell you what a bad idea it is." Well-intentioned, perhaps, but still as mad as a mad thing.

"Any current member of the guard served under my predecessor," Navarre said. "They're not evil men, but I'd be disinclined to rely on their opinion."

Philippe spotted a small glimmer of hope, a gamble that might win or lose all. "And what does the Lady Isabeau think?"

"That you are being a very stubborn pickpocket," someone (well, it was she, of course) said from behind him, before flinging their arms around him in a hug that Philippe somewhat desperately tried to categorize as 'motherly'. A _motherly_ hug.

"I believe that I may speak on her behalf and tell you that if you do, in fact, steal anything, there may be an additional penalty in the form of kisses. Or hugs," Navarre said, his expression so peaceful and calm it could only be a mask for an inner murderous and jealous rage.

Or perhaps not; Philippe didn't want to go overboard here.

"From both of us," Isabeau added.

Philippe decided that, window or not, he definitely should have made his escape the moment Navarre had smiled at him. "Well, I am deeply flattered, of course, sir, lady. Deeply flattered and humbled and overwhelmed by your kindness. Truly, I could desire nothing more than to do exactly as you wish, to live with you in your house, to eat your food, to - " _share your bed_ " - but it can never be. It's the way of the world, you see."

"That is your final decision?" Navarre asked. "That you will not share a house with the captain of the guard and his wife?"

"Yes, sir. Lady. Again, I am very sorry." Philippe swallowed. It would not be so easy, of course; nothing with Navarre ever was.

"I see." Navarre sighed. "Ah well. I _have_ always been curious to see more of the world. One of the southern countries, possibly?"

"Greece, perhaps," Isabeau said. "Have you ever wanted to see Greece, Philippe?"

"I - no, but - "

"Yes?" If Navarre'd looked at all smug, or like he was bluffing, Philippe might have played along, pretended that he actually believed Navarre would resign his position - but the problem was, Philippe _did_ actually believe it.

"Dinner," Philippe said. "We will all have dinner together, and afterwards, why, perhaps I will spend the night. It _is_ getting chillier these days, and a humble thief such as myself should not scoff at a warm place to sleep. And then tomorrow, well, we'll see tomorrow."

"Done," Navarre said. Isabeau merely smiled at him, but that was enough. Almost too much, in fact; Philippe was sure men had committed acts of sheer lunacy for less convincing reasons than such a smile.


End file.
